


Stranger Things have Happened

by SLq



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6100582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLq/pseuds/SLq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People often do not see what is right in front of them. </p>
<p>Or: Shizuo and Izaya and Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger Things have Happened

**Author's Note:**

> Repost. Christmas gift for arashinoko on Tumblr.

**_Namie_ **

It happens on a Tuesday.

The filing is done. The phone has not rang in several hours, and Izaya Orihara has given up click-clacking on his computer in favor of spinning in his chair. A regular day, as workdays went. Namie watches her boss twirl around the room like a small, black-clad tornado with wheels and sighs. Moron.

"I am leaving," she announces. Her bag is packed, her computer shut down. She checks her phone one last time, hoping for a new message from Seiji. Nothing. Her lips bunch in displeasure and she snaps the device shut before stuffing it into her handbag.

"Aww, he still playing hard to get?" a voice coos in her ear and Namie jumps, wrenching away from Izaya and his grabby hands. How does he keep sneaking up on her?

"What would you know about it, you freak," she snarls, cheeks warm.

Izaya smirks back. He has propped himself against her desk; Namie narrows her eyes at the place where his ass has pressed against the wood. Great. Now she has to burn the thing. She is so enraged over the invasion of her personal space that she almost misses the fact that Izaya has remained silent. Almost.

"What, no comeback?" Namie goads. "Have you finally made peace with your pathetic, lonely life?"

Izaya raises an eyebrow. Then his smirk melts into a small, strange smile and Namie steps back, mind buzzing with a surge of adrenaline. Has the man finally snapped? She mentally calculates the amount of time it will take to locate the stun gun in her purse.

The moment ends most anticlimactically. Izaya shrugs in that annoying, dismissive way he has and pushes off the desk. Namie watches him saunter toward the stairs leading to his work station below through narrowed eyes. Halfway there, he makes a detour for the nearest railing and hops over it, landing in a neat crouch. Namie rolls her eyes; show-off.

"Well, goodnight then," Izaya calls out. He has moved to stand before the grand windows that make the entire back wall of his office. His back is to her and he does not seem to have anything sharp in his hands, so Namie allows herself to relax her stance.

"Good night," she mutters and sets for the door.

"Say hello to Seiji from me."

"Go to hell."

"Already there~" Izaya sing-songs.

Namie makes sure to slam the door shut behind her, cutting off the man's mad cackling.

The elevator arrives fairly quickly. Busy typing a message to Seiji, Namie almost bumps into the person that exits it. She lifts her eyes from her phone, an apology on her lips.

Blinks.

"Heiwajima Shizuo." There must be a mistake. Yet how many tall, blonde bartenders are there in Tokyo?

The man - Heiwajima - scratches his head. If Namie had not known any better, she would have thought he is nervous; flustered, even. "Here for Izaya?" she asks. A little exercise may do her boss some good, what with the strange mood he is in tonight. If Heiwajima manages to land a few hits, all the better. For Namie, that is.

The man mutters something. Namie cannot make out the exact words, but the overall meaning is obvious. "He is in his office," she says. "Door's open."

Namie walks into the elevator and presses the button for the ground floor. Heiwajima remains where he is, seemingly undecided. He glances back, at her, just before the doors close. Namie has the sudden urge to rub her eyes. Had the man been...blushing?

A ping distracts her. Namie reads through Seiji's brief text, a soft smile pulling on her lips. Izaya and Heiwajima can do whatever they want. She has someone special at home, waiting for her.

Still, Namie hopes her boss is back to normal by tomorrow. That smile had scared the living breath out of her.

 

* * *

 

**_Kadota_ **

It is not like he plans to get in the middle of it. He just happens to be passing by when a vending machine soars through the sky. The hysterical laughter that follows cements both the cause and the reason for the machine's sudden flight. Kadota hunches his shoulders and hurries his steps, trying not to attract any attention to himself. There's no way he is getting involved.

Unfortunately, the decision is taken out of his hands - rather literally.

A body smacks into Kadota's chest as he rounds a corner. Soft, if rather bony, Kadota thinks the moment before he recognizes the burgundy eyes staring at him from beneath a mop of black hair.

"Dotachin!"

Kadota bites back a sigh. Great.

"Hi, Izaya," he greets. Izaya smiles up at him, bright as a fucking Christmas tree, and snuggles into his chest.

"Long time, no see! I missed you~"

Kadota feels a headache coming.

"IIIIZAAAYAAA-KUUNNNN!"

Scratch that; the headache is real. And it is clinging to Kadota like a monkey to a tree.

"Shizu-chan is being mean," Izaya whines and rubs his face against Kadota's chest. Kadota sighs and pats the man's head, knowing from previous experience that the little shit won't let go until he is good and ready. Perhaps playing along will get him free faster.

"Is he now."

"Yeah," Izaya sniffs. _Sniffs_. Like anyone would believe _that_ crap. "He is throwing stuff at me. And people. But mostly stuff."

"What did you do?"

Izaya takes a breath, likely in preparation to spew more melodramatic bullshit, when a deep voice snarls, "He fucking _exists_ , that's what!"

Kadota wants to bash his head against something because yes, that is Shizuo walking toward them. Carrying what looks like the torn remains of a motorcycle. At least he has the decency to set it down when he notices Kadota.

"Hi, Shizuo."

"Kadota," Shizuo greets and Kadota blinks; the blond usually refers to him as 'Dotachin' when they are alone. He glances downward, at the strangely quiet Izaya. What the hell had the Informant done to piss Shizuo off _this_ much?

"Let go of him," Shizuo continues. His eyes are on Izaya, too.

"Now-" Kadota begins, but Izaya speaks over him.

"Leave us alone, Shizu-chan." His words are muffled by Kadota's shirt and come out sounding more like _Leab un anone, Shidu-chin_ , but Shizuo obviously understands him because his hands clench at his sides. Kadota thinks he can hear his teeth grinding.

" _Izaya_ ," Shizuo growls and Izaya jumps - no, _vaults_ over Kadota. Kadota blinks as arms suddenly wrap around him, the Informant now plastered at his back. He is not certain whether to be more impressed by the acrobatics or the fact that Shizuo appears to be keeping a lid on his temper.

A nearby fence dies a sad, crumbling death as Shizuo kicks it in passing. Kadota shakes his head; at least it is not Izaya's ribs.

Shizuo stops a step from Kadota and his unwanted shadow. "Step aside," he says.

"Would love to, but he is clinging pretty hard." Kadota watches Shizuo's eyes slide to where Izaya is gripping his stomach. A vein pops into existence near the blonde's left temple. Shit. He prepares to dodge a bone-crunching punch.

Instead of attacking, Shizuo grits out, "Izaya. That's enough." Huh. He is really not following script today.

"Nuh-uh," Izaya's head pops over Kadota's shoulder. Kadota spares the man a glance, somewhat appalled to find the Informant's cheeks a bit red. Is he sick? "I like Dotachin better. Go away." He sticks his tongue out at Shizuo and ducks back behind his human shield.

Kadota tenses. Shizuo is steadily growing redder, his body tensing with rage. Kadota's eyes dart here and there, taking note of anything Shizuo can use as a weapon. There is a cross-walk sign some feet away, a small garbage can. A tree. Can the man unearth a tree? He'd rather not find out.

To Kadota's surprise - and not a small amount of worry - Shizuo deflates and steps back. Bleached hair falls in messy chunks over the man's face as he bows his head.

"Fine."

Shizuo turns around and walks away. Kadota blinks at his back. What.

A light pressure against his shoulder reminds Kadota of Izaya's presence. He turns around, meaning to give the man a piece of his mind. However, Izaya is already twisting away, eyes on Shizuo.

"Thanks, Dotachin." He pats Kadota's cheek distractedly before taking off...after Shizuo.

"Stop fighting, you two!" Kadota calls out.

"Okay!" Izaya responds. Some steps ahead of him, Shizuo lifts a hand and waves without turning around.

Seriously, _what_?

Shizuo and Izaya disappear in an alley. Kadota lingers, feeling a tiny bit responsible for any property damage that may follow. When nothing happens for several long minutes, however, he shrugs and starts walking.

Strange. Then again, when had Shizuo and Izaya ever been normal?

 

* * *

**_Kasuka_ **

Kasuka has always found his brother fascinating.

Most people are dull. They live predictable lives, strive toward trite goals, say pleasantly shallow things. Kasuka has long learned to ignore them, or otherwise twist their words and actions until they suit him.

Shizuo has always been the exception. Loud, direct, and violently temperamental, Kasuka's older brother is all action and none of the pretty, useless words that people use to lie, to themselves and others. Shizuo defies every social rule just by existing, and Kasuka loves him all the more for it.

Love. Kasuka stares down into his bowl of ramen, studying the chunks of chicken floating in the golden broth. It is reassuring to feel something, once in a while.

The bell above the door jingles as a new customer walks in. Kasuka lifts his eyes, more in response to the sound than actual curiosity. The sight that greets him makes him pause; Shizuo is standing in the doorway. For a surreal moment, Kasuka wonders if he is imagining things. This restaurant is a literal hole in the wall, in a rather bad neighborhood to boot. Shizuo has no business here.

The blonde is stomping snow from his boots while rubbing his hands together, cheeks flushed with cold. His eyes scan the tiny restaurant, as if looking for someone. Kasuka debates whether to call out to him or not. On one hand, he has had so little time for himself these past months. On the other, Shizuo has a knack for putting Kasuka in a good mood - something he has been lacking lately.

Shizuo has moved to the cashier. He orders something, pays, and moves to sit at one of the empty tables in the back. His foot tap-taps even as he attempts to look blasé. Every few seconds, his gaze jumps to the door.

Kasuka settles back in his seat, curiosity piqued. Who is his brother waiting for?

A couple of people walk in over the next ten minutes. None of them hold Shizuo's attention for more than a second. Kasuka is considering to go to his brother after all - perhaps he has been stood up? - when the door jingles and a man clad in black from head to toe strides in. Shizuo stops picking at his food. Kasuka stares.

Izaya Orihara has just walked through the door.

Orihara scans the restaurant, unknowingly repeating Shizuo's action of earlier. When his eyes land on Shizuo he _grins_ and stalks forward, hips swaying ever so slightly. Kasuka tries not to look at him too much. Shizuo is yet to break eye contact.

Orihara sprawls in the empty chair across Shizuo. From his vantage point, Kasuka can only see the back of his head but Shizuo's face tells him all he needs to know.

So Orihara has finally gotten a clue. Kasuka is torn between amusement and possessive anger.

Shizuo replies to something Izaya had said. His mouth is quirked at the edges; fighting a smile, Kasuka thinks. Orihara steals some of Shizuo's food, then proceeds to try feeding Shizuo - an endeavor that ends with stir-fry all over the restaurant floor and its owner screaming at the two to _Get out, you morons!_ During none of this does Shizuo as much as _glare_. Kasuka does not know whether to be impressed or worried. He settles for watching his brother leave with Orihara, the two walking so close their shoulders bump every other step. The door jingles as they exit.

"Merry Christmas." Kasuka murmurs.

His ramen is cold. Kasuka sighs and gets up to order another bowl.

 

* * *

 

**_+1_ **

"Give me your hand."

"What? No." Shizuo walks a bit faster, doing his best to ignore the man beside him.

"Come on," Izaya whines and pushes against Shizuo's side. Shizuo glances down at him, then quickly looks away. Stupid brat with his stupidly cute pout - Shizuo blushes, embarrassed at his own thoughts, and tries to pull his arm out of Izaya's grip.

"There's no one to see us here." Instead of moving away, Izaya tightens his hold and pushes his head against Shizuo's upper arm. "You know you want to." He rubs his face over the rough cloth of Shizuo's coat, back and forth, like a cat. One of his hands slips down the length of Shizuo's imprisoned arm.

Shizuo sighs. A furtive look up and down the street reveals that they are indeed alone. "Fine," he snaps, clasping the sneaky hand in his own. "Happy?"

"Much," Izaya purrs. If Shizuo had thought that giving in will win him some personal space, he is sorely mistaken; Izaya clings harder, a solid warmth along Shizuo's side.

"What?" the Informant mutters when he notices Shizuo's half-hearted glare, "I'm cold."

Shizuo holds onto his irritation for a few more steps. Then he sighs and wrenches his arm from Izaya's octopus arms. Izaya regards him with wide, betrayed eyes. "Shut up," Shizuo blurts and wraps his arm around the smaller man's shoulders, pulling him against his chest. Izaya freezes. "Walk," Shizuo snaps and the Informant laughs, soft and young, and resumes his brisk stride. He prattles about something meaningless as he does, on and on and on and Shizuo nods him along, strangely content.

It has turned out to be a nice Christmas after all.


End file.
